


Pandora Algorithm

by whatsanapocalae



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Bathing/Washing, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Depression, Electrocution, First Time, Hacking, Hair Brushing, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury Recovery, Intercrural Sex, Kidnapping, M/M, Medical, Men Crying, Not Canon Compliant, Recovery, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Solitary Confinement, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, augmentation abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-02-16 20:11:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 21,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18698347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsanapocalae/pseuds/whatsanapocalae
Summary: Techs, hackers, and coders, all from different companies, have gone missing over the weekend. Adam Jensen finds out that Francis Pritchard was one of them as he calls out to him, breaking the rules of his kidnappers, in order to get some attempt of rescue or, at the very least, compassion.This story will be dealing with dark themes and the tags will be changing alongside updates. The rating will also be changing.Inspired by https://machshfive.tumblr.com/post/163402065197





	1. Chapter 1

“Adam? Adam, please, they’re hurting us. Adam? Can you hear me?”

Adam opened his eyes, alone in his bedroom, not sure if he’d been dreaming or not. He wasn’t great at sleeping, not after everything, after all of the people he’d had to put down. He’d tried not to. He wanted to go the pacifist route, but he wasn’t always so lucky. Now he woke in the night, hearing things, those that he killed, those that he didn’t, in his ear. Sometimes the dreams were as accurate as real life and sometimes they weren’t at all. With this one he couldn’t tell. He hadn’t seen anything. He’d just heard a voice. Francis.


	2. Chapter 2

The break room was a mess at the beginning of the work day, everyone getting together for their daily coffee and catch up. It was noisy. Adam was sensitive to sound now. Whatever was left of him was sensitive to everything but what was gone had been replaced with instruments that were far more sensitive than they were human. 

He rarely went into the break room but he was there now, needing that bit of caffeine, needing to catch sight of Francis. He hadn’t been in his office. This was the only other place he could think to look. He had to see him, just to make sure he was alright. He wouldn’t bring up the dream, he knew that Francis would never let him hear the end of it. 

“Adam? Please answer me. Please? Am I getting through?”

He almost missed the sound of his voice due to how loud everyone else was. He couldn’t catch it, couldn’t focus on it, but he was sure that he heard Francis’ voice. He sounded tired, more so than usual, and quieter than he ever would be, like a whisper wrapped in exhaustion. 

He put his fingers to his temple, about to call him, needing to know what was going on, when his feed kicked into life. 

“Adam, I need you upstairs, now.” David, of course. He sounded like he was on the end of his rope too. He sounded like he needed to hit something. 

“On my way, Boss,” he answered, taking his coffee and his single serving of cereal out of the break room and over to the elevator. 

Athene was working hard, her head down as she clacked on her keyboard. She barely even looked up as Adam walked by. Normally he would stop, do some small talk, flirt a little just because he liked the way she smiled when he did. Not now though. He felt like there was trouble brewing. It was either something that he had done or something that he had to take care of. She nodded towards David’s door and didn’t pause in her work. 

David was standing at the window, black hands clasped behind his back. He looked dramatic, over the top, and Adam didn’t care for it. He set his mug down on David’s desk, just loud enough that his boss would start in on his overly practiced speech. David didn’t turn, but his fingers clicked as he rolled his knuckles. 

“Something happened, Adam, something bad,” he started. It was practiced, as if David was ready to give this speech to the press. “Over the weekend there was a mass kidnapping, if that makes any sense, across multiple tech, aug, and coding companies. It happened in homes and in offices. People, primarily augmented people, were assaulted and taken away to a secure location. None of them have been found yet, there have been no ransoms, no demands from whoever has taken them.”

“This sounds for a job for the police,” Adam interjected knowing full well that David was going to make it into a job for him. 

“With this many people you’d think so, but the police don’t even know where to start looking. You, perhaps, have a better chance at finding them than anyone else, granted their findable and not just dead. All of their GPS signals are gone so it’s a tough one.”

There was a cold note to his voice, a note that said that he was highly emotional but not letting it get to him. He was holding it off. Adam was playing dumb, for his own sake. He didn’t want to admit to himself what this meant, what the voice in his head meant. 

“Francis?”

David turned around, finally, and there were bags under his eyes, tension in his brow. No wonder Athene was working so hard, she was trying to find them too, trying to keep the press at bay. 

“You know he works on the weekend too, guy never takes a day off. Found his bike on its side in the parking garage, beat in on one side. Looks like someone hit it pretty bad. Haven’t heard from him, not even a blip, since. I know you two don’t really get along but he was taken too.” David’s eyebrow rose. “Are you seriously eating cereal right now?”

Adam bowed his head for another bite. He couldn’t even taste it. “You put all these machines in me, boss, I need to keep up the caloric intake to keep them from shutting down.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, son. It just makes it look like you’re nto taking this very seriously. I know you two were always fighting, couldn’t see eye to eye on anything, and I tried to fix that. You don’t know how many times I pulled him as-

“He called me,” Adam interrupted. He knew how their relationship looked, from the outside, and it was oddly sweet that David had tried to stop it, but Adam didn’t want it to stop. Francis was the only one who didn’t treat him any differently after the incident, he brought them up but only to toss jibes at him. “Last night, a few minutes ago, he was trying to make contact. I didn’t know what it was though and it didn’t tell me anything.”

David almost lunged for him, putting a hand on either of his arms, looking up at his lenses. There was a bit of hope in his eyes, trepidation. He was scared, not for himself, but for Francis. It wasn’t something that Adam had expected to see in the man. “And? What did he say?”

“Nothing helpful. He was trying to see if he could make contact, trying to see if he could communicate with me. I could barely hear him. And-” his eyes flickered down. He didn’t know if he should say it. He didn’t know if it was true or made up from his half sleep. He knew Francis, knew how prideful he was. He wouldn’t of said that unless it was really bad and he wouldn’t have wanted it shared. 

“And what?”

Adam closed his eyes. He was glad for the lenses. They meant people had a harder time reading him. “And he said they were hurting him. Him and the other techs, I’m guessing.”

“Shit,” David ran a hand through his silver hair, turning, his worry for Francis transforming into worry for the company, as it always did. “You think their torturing these guys? Trying to get information out of them?”

“I don’t know,” Adam admitted, “But you know that Francis would never betray us. He might be an ass but he owes us too much. He’s loyal.”

David’s shoulders slumped and it was obvious that no, no David hadn’t thought of that. He didn’t know how loyal Francis was, how much he needed this company, just as much as it needed him. Adam drained his coffee and left the mug on the desk, turning on one heel to head back to the elevator. “I’ll let you know when I find something.”

He closed his eyes in the elevator, leaning his head against the cold metal wall. He couldn’t lean against it, with the railing and the curve that didn’t allow his broad shoulders. He wanted to collapse against it. In front of David, he couldn’t show any emotion, he was a guard dog, foremost, whatever humanity he still had just made hi uncomfortable now. He couldn’t let him in. He couldn’t let anyone in. He should he responded, to the very first call. He should have known that something was wrong. 

He was collected, once more, by the time he reached the second floor and he kept that collected nature until he was in Francis’ office. Only once the door was closed did he collapse onto the couch, curling in on his side. He should never have let them take Francis. He didn’t know how he would have guessed at it, but he felt like this was his fault, somehow. It was so easy to blame himself for things. Ever since the incident, no, before that, he’d felt like any betrayal was his fault. Francis hadn’t betrayed him though, he’d been kidnapped, and he needed Adam’s help. 

He pressed his fingers to his temple. “Francis? Please tell me that you’re there.”

Nothing. No, something. A sigh, shuddering, as if it hurt to get the air out. 

“Francis, I need to know where you are. I’m going to come get you and your GPS signal is gone. I need some information.”

When Francis spoke it was a hoarse whisper. “Adam?”

Francis didn’t call him Adam. He never had. He was always just Jensen. Something must have been really bad. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” he pulled himself up into a sitting position. “Can you give me your location?”

“Don’t know. I was unconscious for most of it...” A long pause but it was clear that Francis wasn’t done talking. He was just waiting for something. “I can’t talk. If they know I’m communicating with you… I don’t know what they’ll do.”

“It’s okay, you do what you have to do to survive until I get there. Is there a way to get your GPS signal back?”

A long long stretch of silence and Adam couldn’t imagine what was going on, the sort of place that Francis was being held in, what sort of condition he was in. Adam’s mouth was dry. His fingers were moving, ready for something. There was tension in his body, so much of it. He knew that it couldn’t be good for him. He wanted a drink. He wanted a smoke. Neither would help. 

“I turned it off,” Francis finally admitted. “It was off before they-

He cut off but Adam could still hear what was going on. The opening of a creaking door, some people talking. They were too far away for him to hear what they were saying. Francis wasn’t responding either. Something about it being time for work and something about how he’d better get some results. It made Adam uncomfortable. 

“Francis,” Adam kept it at a whisper. He knew that his voice was inside of Francis’ head, that no one else could hear him, but that didn’t stop him from lowering his voice, just to be safe. “Stay strong, alright? I’ll be there soon. Nothing is going to stop me from getting to you.”


	3. Chapter 3

He had his work cut out for him, his usual work, and he was glad that he had a team because he couldn’t focus on anything. He went to the parking garage, found shards of motorcycle and glass but everything had been cleaned up. He talked to people, tried to be friendly, pretended that nothing was wrong, and it became quickly apparent that only David and Athene knew that Francis was gone. They were keeping it quiet. They were keeping everyone from panicking. 

He went through Francis’ files, as best he could, though most of them were in codes and other languages and there was no way that he could understand any of them. He knew that Francis was smart, that he was smarter than was good for him, but this was a sign that he could never even compare. These weren’t even secure files, he just had everything in code, no matter how small. Only his emails were in English. 

He took a nap on Francis’ couch. He drank more coffee. He smoked a cigarette even though the chemicals never reached his lungs. He felt on edge. He felt like he was going to break things. He felt like he wanted to. 

“Adam?” there was a hiccup in his name, the voice sounding on the brink of exhaustion. 

“I’m here.” he answered immediately. “What are they doing to you?”

“Pandora Algorithm,” it was half slurred but Adam grabbed a sticky note and jotted it down. He was surprised that Francis even had sticky notes. “They want us to break it.”

He’d never heard of the Pandora Algorithm but he could guess what it was about by the name; nothing good. “Before. You were talking about your GPS.”

“It can be re-enabled, through my computer,” Francis explained. “BC-118SPG.cvx. You’ll need a password.”

It wasn’t on the desktop but in a folder labeled 4ugZ and then another labeled FWPSR. Adam didn’t know what any of the codes meant but they had to mean something. There were a lot of instances of the same file type, all of which were the same name aside from the number. It opened up fast though. 

“I’m ready.” 

“I’m not,” Francis retorted. Adam could hear the door open again but this time there was only one other voice. “Just trying to keep myself sane,” he heard Francis murmur, “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” Fear, more than that, the terror that came from abuse. Adam had seen it before, in people who had been corralled into tight spaces, taught quickly that disobedience would bring them pain. It wasn’t something that he wanted to hear in Francis’ voice. 

The door closed. Adam could hear Francis eating, too quickly, like a man half starved. It had only been a couple of days. Adam wondered if that meant they were only being fed once a day. By how quickly he was done it must not have been much. 

“Okay. I’m sorry,” Francis admitted and that was strange. He didn’t apologize very often. “I’m sorry. I just...”

“The password, Francis?”

“NuC134R_M177Y_07m15d1991”

“You couldn’t have picked something longer?” Adam tried to joke but there was no laughter from the other side. What popped up was a long list of locations, primarily those that were within Sarif Industries and errands that had to be run. There was no way to trail him outside of work hours, of which, it seemed, were most hours. There were two yellow buttons on the side of the screen though, one for active and deactive. Of course, it was set to deactive. “Here goes.”

He half expected a sound of pain to come from Francis but there was nothing. On the screen there was a small flicker, a single blip in a minute, instead of the usual strong pulse. 

“Shit, there’s hardly any signal.”

“Underground,” Francis sighed. He sounded like he’d fall asleep any minute. “Good wifi though.”

Adam wrote down the coordinates. He didn’t know them all off the top of his head, but he was certain that they were out of the country, at the very least. “It’s going to take me a bit to reach you, but I am coming. I’m bringing Malik with me.”

“Thank you.” Another thing that Francis didn’t say often. Another thing that Adam didn’t want to hear him say. “Adam? Will you stay on the line?”

“You want me to keep talking?”

A pause but this one wasn’t because of eavesdroppers. This one was because this was something big. This was something akin to weakness for someone like Francis. He didn’t want to admit to needing comfort, of all things, of being human. 

“Please?”

“You got it. You need me to shut up just give the word. You sound like you need to sleep.”

“Don’t know how to here.”


	4. Chapter 4

“So, Scotland, huh?” Malik shook her head, not quite believing her orders. “Can’t imagine what you expect to find there.” 

“A friend, hopefully.” Apparently David hadn’t told her anything either. There were lives at stake and he was still putting the reputation of the company over them. A few people had even asked him if he’d seen Francis too and he hadn’t been able to say anything. They were mostly looking for him for tech support, which Adam was sure he hated, but there was still an itch there, a tiny glimmer of concern. David wasn’t going to be able to lie to them for much longer. 

“Woah, you’re bringing the big guns?” Malik noted the large rifle on Adam’s back, as well as the pistol on one hip. His little dart gun was on his other side but it was rare for him to bring more than that and a few gas and EMP grenades. “This guy doesn’t seem too friendly.”

“I’ll explain on the way.”

“You’d better. You ready to go?” 

He didn’t answer, just climbed inside. Through his communicator he’d heard a lot of busy work, mostly the tapping at keys. He’d also heard whoever the captors were talking a bit, but nothing important, nothing that would help. 

The moment he was buckled in he was talking himself, giving Francis an update. He told him where he was, that they were heading out, that he’d informed David and there was a hotel room waiting for them under a false name, a limb clinic doctor already on her way to meet them in case he needed any medical care. Francis had been unable to respond. 

He could hear the clicking of keys, someone coughing, and a lot of orders. He tried to ignore it. Whatever Francis was doing, it was a lot of typing and a lot of work. He could guess that there were four of them, typing away, messing with the algorithm. Then there were guards or captors or those in charge, he couldn’t tell. He could hear a shortness of breath when one of them drew close to Francis though, his panic starting to rise. 

Adam didn’t have much to talk about, he found, a lot of his stories from work were already known by Francis or were confidential. His time away from work consisted of drinking and smoking and wishing that that meant something and watching baseball. He couldn’t imagine filling Francis in on the last game. 

He went back then; told stories about Kubrick, told stories about when he was a cop, told stories from when he was fully human. He got a laugh from one of them, which turned into a series of coughs as Francis tried to hide it. 

He wasn’t doing much, but he was keeping Francis company, and that’s all that he could do. He wondered if Francis had any stories of his own to share.


	5. Chapter 5

He had to sleep, eventually, had to be rested and ready for when they dropped off. They wouldn’t be able to land in the town itself, it was far too small and it would draw too much attention. The population was under a thousand, he was going to have to be very careful to not get caught. Malik had already set up transportation for him to get to the town, and cleared their approach with Inverness air control. 

He heard Francis get walked back to his room, heard his keepers tell him things, things that made Adam’s fingers twitch and his mind race for ways that he could undo them. They were telling him that they would hurt him if he wasn’t more productive, threatening him with lack of sleep and food if he didn’t start showing results. Francis even apologized and Adam could hear him stifle a gasp of pain as one of them slapped him for it, for speaking out of turn. One of them was actively flirting with Francis too, in the least flattering way, saying that if Francis wasn’t going to do what they wanted, he’d find some other way to put him to use. 

Adam did his best to praise Francis, but he was out of practice of saying nice things, especially with him. Still, he felt an urge to protect him, more than just physically. Francis was a creature of pride though and he was smart too. If he wasn’t making progress on the algorithm, it was because he didn’t want them to have it. 

Francis was understanding, surprisingly, and when Adam broached the subject that he had to sleep, Francis didn’t argue. He just asked Adam to hurry. 

Adam was used to sleeping in the bee. He was used to sleeping anywhere. He’d slept in a ventilation shaft once, just because the guards on the other side wouldn’t leave. Comfort didn’t matter much to a man who’s body didn’t feel things. Sound didn’t matter much either, unless it was the sound of a fight or alarm. 

He’d stayed on the line, just in case. He didn’t know what would happen to Francis, but he seemed to be safe enough as long as he was in that room, all alone. 

The screaming was a surprise, making him lurch out of his seat. It was muffled, by a wall, and then by Francis’ hands, which he heard clap against his ears and over the communicator in his temple. It was a woman’s scream, fear and anger and pain. He could hear Francis breathing too, anxiety spilling through his lungs as he tried to suck in air, as he tried not to scream too. 

It only lasted a few seconds and then there was the sound of a gag, the screaming ending fast, like it was cut off. The panic was still there, a sharp high pitched sound coming from Francis. 

“You’re okay!” Adam promised him, “You’re alright! I’m here!”

“Adam?” he didn’t sound so sure now. He could hear the rustling of fabric, Francis rocking against the wall, his leather jacket squishing against it. “Adam, that was Dr Lee. She was one of the smartest of us. Shit, Adam, she was like me.”

He didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t know a Dr. Lee. It was too common of a name for it to have any bearing on him. “You’re okay,” he repeated, “Just do as they say and you’ll be alright. I’m almost there.”

“I don’t want to do as they say,” Francis admitted and he was shaking. “Adam, I want to go home.”

His voice sounded broken, something about the way he’d begged making hims sound so small and young. He sounded like a child, wanting his mother. It was something he heard in hostage situations, in victims. It couldn’t be helped. 

“I’m going to get you home, I promise,” Adam did and he would and nothing was going to stop him. He found himself wanting to touch Francis, in a way that he never had. Around the office the only physical contact he wanted with the man was borderline violent. Now though, he just wanted to hold Francis close, keep him safe, run his hands through his hair and down his back and arms to massage all of the terror and stress out of him. He didn’t want to dwell on that. “Until then you’re going to have to do whatever they ask of you. Just turn off that big brain of yours and follow their orders. Thinking, fighting them, will get you killed.”

“I don’t know how to li-”

A knock on the door and they both jumped. “Hey!” a male voice, a familiar voice, called out to him. “You talking in there?”

“Just to myself!” Francis swore and the terror in his voice rose, the panic so close to the surface. He was going to break. “I heard noises. I just needed to calm down.”

“I could calm you,” the voice replied. “You need to use that mouth of yours I can make sure to work it out. I’ll give you some company.”

It clicked in his head then, what Francis was so frightened of doing for his survival. It must have been what got Dr. Lee killed too. Francis was hesitating and Adam could only imagine that that intelligent brain of his was going through a million scenarios, trying to pick the right path. 

“Thank you,” Francis eventually choked out, “but I’m really quite tired. I think I’m going to try to rest, so I can get some good work in.”

Adam half expected anger or violence and he held his breath, just waiting. Someone called out to Jonas though and that must have been the man who wouldn’t leave Francis alone because he backed off. 

“I’ll come by later, Franny,” Jonas crooned, “I’ll make you feel nice and good. You’ll see.”

Franny? It was a cheap nickname, not even thought out well, but by the hitch in Francis’ throat it must have had some affect. Adam waited a moment, just to make sure that Jonas was really gone before speaking again. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Francis, this is going to be over soon, very soon, and I’m going to get you out of there.”

“Adam?” it was little more than a whisper. “I’m going to hang up now.”

“What?” 

“I just. I can’t have you hear this.” 

The line went dead.


	6. Chapter 6

He looked insane and he covered it by putting a hand to his temple and holding it there, so it was obvious that he was on the phone. He could tell that the driver wanted to ask him questions, about the guns strapped onto him, but he’d just curtly stated “hunting trip” when he first entered the vehicle and that was all he could do. He tried to keep his words calm, friendly, as not to raise too many suspicions and still work on Francis. He described the landscape, how soon it would be until he got there, how relieved he was going to be to see Francis. 

Francis was unresponsive but that wasn’t a surprise. He could hear typing again and knew that Francis was hard at work, acting more like he was driving for results than before. He was probably making some headway into the algorithm as well. There was only so long you could pretend to be productive and not actually be so. His breathing was shallow and whenever Adam brought up how glad he would be to see Francis, he could hear his breath catch and worble. 

He could hear the others too. He could hear the techs, all working diligently. He heard one of them cry out as they were shocked and yelled at for falling asleep at the job, making a quiet whine grow in the back of Francis’ throat. He could hear the guards joke around, give orders, and complain of boredom, ask one of them to act out so they’d have an excuse to do something about it. 

And he could hear Jonas. 

Jonas was standing close to Francis, practically draped onto his desk, by the sound of it. He would talk, every once in a while, and there was nothing romantic in his flirtations, no kindness in his desires, and he knew that Francis was terrified of him, could practically hear his panic rise with each word. 

“I know they don’t feed you guys enough, you need any extra protein, I’ll come by.” Jonas said. 

Francis didn’t respond. He tried to just keep working. 

A small yelp but Adam didn’t hear Jonas strike him, probably just a grab, but the terror was still there. “Hell, might just come by anyway. I miss hearing your constant snark, Franny, but I’m sure that mouth would look good wrapped around my cock.”

Francis’ breathing took a higher pitch, short shallow breaths. Adam’s fingers were curling into fists. He didn’t know how to talk about the rolling hills and all of the sheep that dotted them while this was happening. He didn’t know how to help from so far away. 

“You need some company, don’t you?” Jonas sounded closer. Adam could hear Francis swallow. “Look at you. Bet I’m the first one to show any interest in a long time.”

The words were on the tip of Francis’ tongue and Adam quickly whispered at him to hold them. Tried not to let him get himself into further danger. 

“You’ve probably never even been fucked. Not without a bag over your head. You been fucked Franny? Or will I be the first?” 

Francis swallowed again, this time around something hard. Adam could hear that his typing had gone slow, that he was still trying to work but couldn’t focus on it. 

“You’re alright,” Adam said, not knowing what to say, “Don’t listen to him, don’t respond. Just do what you have to do.”

Another voice, a friendly pat on Jonas’ shoulder, and Adam didn’t know what to do with his hands. He was glad that his shades were up because the driver kept looking back at him through the mirror. He knew that his anger was apparent in his face, but at least the man couldn’t see how it translated in his eyes. 

“What’s with you and the ugly bitches?” came the new voice, joking, non hostile, obviously cutting into Francis a bit further. 

“What? The ugly one’s try harder!” Jonas chuckled back, “Isn’t that right Franny?”

Francis sputtered, trying not to respond, and Adam was certain that his eyes were red and his brow was down, and that Francis was angrier than Adam had ever gotten him. He didn’t know what to say, how to help. Francis was a creature of pride though, he knew himself, and he knew that any insults were designed to get a rise out of him, not to be believed. 

Another yelp and the typing stopped. “Answer me, Franny.”

Adam didn’t like killing. He brought the big guns but they were for emergencies only. He’d be knocking out as many of them as he could. He wouldn’t mind wasting a few of the real bullets on Jonas. 

“I’m sorry,” Francis all but wheezed. “Yes sir, ugly bitches try harder.”

Adam bared his teeth. He could hear it, the defeat in Francis’ voice. The way that he was so subservient. It was pain and it was training but it was also a terrible amount of belief. Adam never thought that Francis would believe something like that, especially not when it was directed at him. Francis had never had an ugly moment in the past few years that Adam had known him. He could get with anyone if he curbed his tongue and got out every once in a while. He didn’t know how to say that though, he didn’t know how to convince Francis of anything. Saying it now would just sound pitying and Francis didn’t deserve that. 

“Open your mouth.”

Francis did. Adam almost launched out of his chair. Instead he just asked the driver to maybe pick up the pace a little. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve got a good mouth for sucking cock,” Jonas mused. “I’ll be by tonight. You can show me just how hard you’ll try to please me, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” That didn’t even sound like Francis.


	7. Chapter 7

Scotland had never had the big economic boom that much of the rest of the world had. They had tried to modernize, had built businesses and tried to push industry, but the people were farmers and shepherds and all of those who wanted to be something else had moved away. The businesses had failed. 

Adam was standing in front of one of those businesses. It was supposed to be an off shoot of some major organization, but it had failed spectacularly, and no one had taken up the space. Not publicly anyway. He knew that he was at the right spot though, the coordinates matched. It was a nice, quiet spot, where no one would bother those who had taken over the building. There were radio towers on top, lots of satellites and antennae. Francis had said the wifi was good. He bet it was spectacular. 

“Francis. I’m here,” he informed. “Your signal is still really weak, so it might take a bit of time to find you, but I’m coming. Just hold on a little longer.”

“You’re here?” Francis had know that he was coming, but he still sounded surprised. He was safe again, in his room, locked away from the world. He sounded like he was on the verge of collapse. “You’re actually coming for me?”

“Of course I am,” Adam pushed inside. “Give me an hour, tops. I might have to go silent at times but I’ll be whispering when I can.”

“Thank you,” Francis replied, breathy, the gratitude clear in his voice. “Thank you, Adam.”

“You can thank me when I actually get there.”

His location marker showed that there was no one on the floor that he was on. That was good. He didn’t really want to wander around looking for stairs or an elevator shaft. He didn’t want to waste any time. He knew that there would be a fight, but it was clear that he’d be fighting a lot of people all at once. They would all be together, wherever Francis was. 

No one on the next floor down. Adam knelt down, brought back his fist, and slammed it down, cracking the floor. He waited a moment, let himself recharge, and did it again, making a hole large enough for his body to get through. 

“Are you- are you seriously punching your way down here?” Francis breathed. 

“It’s faster. You don’t approve?”

“Oh, I approve alright. Just, maybe don’t bring the building down?” That sounded like Francis, like the real Francis. Sarcasm was a delight through the infolink. 

Adam let himself fall down through the hole, onto the story below. He wasn’t going to be able to keep this up indefinitely, there was only so much that he could recharge by time alone. He’d brought some snacks but probably not enough. 

He did as he promised, kept talking, as much as he could, as he went floor by floor down into the ground and beneath it. The building was big, it must have cost a fortune. He wondered if the company that built it even existed after such a failed expense. 

Francis was a bit more talkative too, which was a relief. It meant he wasn’t as afraid. It meant that Adam was getting a better idea of the floor plan too. Francis didn’t know much, he was only ever moved from his cell to the workplace, but Adam knew the way between them well enough. 

“What are you up to in there?” came a voice It wasn’t Jonas, at least. 

Adam punched through another floor. He was starting to see shadows on his location marker. He was going to have to start sneaking after this floor. 

“Nothing!” Francis exclaimed, too fast. “Just going over the codes, calculating. I’m trying to understand what all needs to be done.”

There were nine people on the next floor. Adam could see them shuffling about. Four of them weren’t moving, but the other five were moving at a lazy pace, grouping up before dispersing again. He got up, dusted himself off, and only then started looking for a less obvious route. 

The door opened and Adam could hear heavy steps make their way into the room. “It’s always nothing with you, isn’t it, Frank?” the voice asked. “You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”

Luckily, there was a sign pointing towards the stairs. These looked like labs now, less like offices, but there was no information to glean from any of them. They were all empty rooms. He wasn’t on a mission for information anyway. He only had one directive, to get Francis out of there. 

“No!” Terror in Francis’ voice, a shudder. It was obvious that he was lying. “No, I’m not hiding anything! What would I have to hide?”

He took the stairs down two at a time. He breathed evenly, the workout nullified by manufactured lungs. He was quiet. He wondered if he should be invisible. He had to get to Francis, but he knew that there was no point if he didn’t take care of these guys on the way. He’d only have to bring him back up and there would be alarms going off by then, he was sure. He wouldn’t put Francis in more danger. 

“I’m going to turn you off,” the stranger explained, as if it was that easy, as if Francis was an appliance. “Just in case.”

Adam made his way out, clinging to the walls, shuffling silently. They were augs, some of them more noticeable than others, wandering around, guarding the place. A lot of them were drinking coffee. They had no idea that he was there. This place must have good sound cancellation. They did all have guns strapped to their backs. 

“No! Please! You, you don’t have to do that! I can’t work if I’m turned off again!” Francis pleaded. That was good, meant that being turned off didn’t mean being killed, but Adm didn’t know what else it could mean. 

He pulled the key out of a gas grenade and rolled it down the corridor, towards the first of the guards. It started to sputter before it even reached her and then the hall was full of it, foggy. People were calling out but they were coughing more than that, and he could easily slide in and bash heads into walls, hit sensitive spots, and use a single dart on the last of the guards before she could escape to inform the rest. 

Francis screamed but Adam could barely hear it. He was screaming too. He felt like his temple was bursting, his vision was hazy from the interference. His body was crumpling, and all he could hear was static. It trailed from the infolink down through his face, down into his chest. It was too much. It was nothing, compared to what Francis was feeling. 

Adam was lying on the floor, for a long time, too long. When the pain finally subsided he was alone and the gas was mostly cleared. He blinked, looking up and around, but no one else had come to replace the guards he’d disposed of. They were still lying down around him, unconscious lumps. It was only a couple of minutes, at most. Adam pulled himself up, looking at those around him. One of them had to have a key. He could let these people out, send them to the surface. 

There was no voice in his head, not even breathing. He couldn’t hear anything coming from Francis at all. Even when he spoke, there was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, just curious about this since it will make the story a lot longer if I decide to go along with it, but how explicit should this fic be? I have some ideas and, while they'd be fun to write, I don't think they'd be necessary for the story. Leave a comment to tell me if you think there should be sex in this fic


	8. Chapter 8

Three of them could move on their own and they didn’t even hesitate to help the fourth out of their cell and back the way that Adam had come. They thanked him, one of them even embracing him in gratitude, before making their way up the stairs. He called the police. It would take them a while to get there, to catch up to him, but by then he hoped that the rest of the prisoners would be closer to the surface. 

There were a lot more people on the next floor down. He bet that was the main hub. That was where he was going to find Francis. A quick glance around and he found a ventilation shaft, which allowed him to crawl down into the crawlspace and down a narrow ladder to his location. 

“FZZATT!” came his info link and he grit his teeth, pulling back as he slammed a hand against it. There was still static coming through the system, still back feed, and they couldn’t still be hurting Francis, his body wouldn’t have been able to take it and Adam couldn’t hear him screaming anymore. There was something wrong with his info link now. 

“I’m on your floor,” Adam whispered, not expecting a response but hoping that he could get through to Francis still. “Just a few more minutes.” 

An alarm sounded, far overhead. It was shrill, beeping, not the kind that came with the building. It couldn’t have, there was no electricity. He was smart not to use the stairs, no one alarmed the floors. If he had to guess they were battery powered, or had a small generator, which the rest of this place would also have needed. He cursed under his breath. Normally, the alarm would have worked in his favor, got more of them up and away, given him free reign of the lower floors, but right now it just meant that the enemy was spreading out. He could hear them, panicking, running, calling out to one another. He wanted them all down before he got people out. He didn’t have a choice though, what was done was done. He’d just have to lead the survivors out, gun blazing, like a real hero. 

“The...ck…tha...oise?” That man, the one who had turned Francis off, cut off by the static in the info ink. He was still in the room with Francis. 

Adam stayed there for a moment, waiting for more of the guards to rush past, look for whatever had caused the noise. 

Another voice; Jonas, if he were to guess. “Som...e’s...min.!”

Adam opened the vent, shooting the first person he saw with one of his stun darts. They only made it a few more steps before collapsing, tripping the two that were right behind her. It was easy for him to roll out from his hiding spot, grab them both by the back of the heads, and slam them forward to knock them out on the floor. It revealed him though and he kept moving, rolling to the other side as he heard someone yelp and fire at him, missing terribly. 

“But…w wou...the...ind...s?” A third voice. 

He leaned out of cover and took the shooter out with another stun dart. He could see others, running, panicking, too far away for his dart to reach. They were either going to fight him or take the techs and run. He couldn’t allow any of them to escape with them. He wouldn’t let any more of the techs die. 

“Som...e m..t h..e ta...d. I...ink...u kn.w wh...” Jonas again. He was amazed that he was getting anything through his info link at all. It was still grating, painful to hear, but he had to know what was happening with Francis. 

He rushed forward, trying to stay behind cover, but this was a hallway and the only cover was behind the generators that he’d predicted and a few open doorways. They were shooting at him. He was still wearing his jacket and, while he hated getting it shot up, remembering with each bullet just how much it had cost. It obscured his silhouette though and he had better things to focus on and the bullets weren’t hitting him at least. 

“No!” he grimaced at Francis’ shrill panic, his voice garbled by the static. “N...ple..e!” 

He could hear the gunfire that was directed at him, echoing through the info link. Jonas wasn’t caring about escape, not yet. Adam took out one of the guards, the one working to unlock the door, get one of the techs free. He stiffened and collapsed behind the two still shooting. 

“Fran...be.n.ta.king...is wh.le...me,” Jonas growled. Adam shot one of the shooters. They should have been running, getting out of there, not just standing around talking. “sai...was to...lm hi..nerv... You...e t...ing...so..one...eren’t..ou?” 

Adam shot the other, diving from cover and closer, ever closer. The first one down had the keys. He’d been able to get through the cells above through hacking but he didn’t have time for that now. He didn’t know which of the cells Francis was in. He could hear more of them coming too, those that had gone up turning and heading back towards the sound of gunfire, others hidden on the floor rushing towards him. He still had two gas grenades, and there was another vent up above him. 

“Pl..se!” He had to keep his head down, his thoughts in order. He couldn’t be distracted by Francis’ plight. Saving him now would just get him killed. “I...dn’t..o...ythi..!..prom.se!”

He grabbed one of the generators, dragging it out and under the vent, using it to climb up and into it. A swift kick had it sliding along the floor, not back into position but close enough. He doubted that any of them had the strength to follow him. 

“You..e...e onl...ne wh. co..d...ve!” A solid thump, broken and jagged. A groan, not a scream, sounding like metal scraping in the info link. He wanted to turn it off. He couldn’t understand what was happening anyway, not with how damaged it was. He just knew that he had to get to Francis fast. 

His location marker showed that the empty hall was filled once more, more of them than there had been before. He could still hear what was happening with Francis, though he couldn’t tell what it was, really. He shoved his fingers down into the vent shaft, pulling the metal open, and looked down into the cell. They were offices, storage units, and board rooms, reconstituted. He heard people cry out as they saw him, all wide eyes, haggard, and clever. They smiled once they realized what he was there for, nodded when he said that he would unlock the doors once the threat was gone. A few of them offered to help, some of them weren’t even able to walk and they were offering. They wouldn’t leave anyone behind. 

They were all alone. Francis wasn’t. He knew that he was close when he found an empty cell, only a blood smear a reminder of what happened to Dr. Lee. He doubted that he’d find a similar sight with Francis. He could still hear words, though they were too broken for him to understand under the sound of whatever they were doing. 

Four people, two of which were very close together, touching. He shoved his fingers down, peeling up, slowly. He didn’t need the info link, he could hear what was happening now. He turned it off, grateful for the lack of static and painful feedback. 

One of them, a big one, was holding Francis up, poorly, keeping him in a full nelson. Francis was slumped, unable to support himself, his legs curved and knees bent so his handler was supporting all of his weight. One of them, smaller than the other two, seemed nervous, looking out at the action inside. Jonas had a buzzed head and bloodied knuckles and he was holding Francis’ chin, forcing him to look up at him. 

“Don’t you think we should be going?” the small one argued. “We can do this later!”

“It’s fine, don’t you hear the action out there? They’ll kill Franny’s little friend and then we can all get back to work,” Jonas spat in Francis’ face. He didn’t even flinch away from his. Adam couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t find it under the swelling and the blood. 

He shot the small one as he pulled himself through the opening he’d made, landing on Jonas. His gun was out and on the big one and he couldn’t look at Francis. He had to pretend that he didn’t even exist. He knew that if he let his humanity come through, he wouldn’t be able to do what he had to do. 

“Adam?” 

The big one hoisted him up, using him like a shield. “What do you think you’re getting at?” he snarled, putting on a brave front. “There’s too many of us, you’re not going to be able to escape here.” He dropped Francis’ arm, wrapping his own around Francis’ neck instead. “Is this what you want?”

“You’re done,” Adam growled. He couldn’t fire. He couldn’t shoot him without the pulse hitting Francis as well. He wasn’t going to hurt Francis, no matter what. “All of you. I’m not leaving until you’re all down.”

“And yet you’re only willing to knock us out?” He squeezed and Francis was weak but he still brought up a hand, tried to pry at the flesh around his through, back arching as he tried to breathe. “We were just teaching him a lesson. If you give in now, you’ll be the only one dying today.”

Francis was struggling, as best he could with his weak, malnourished and beaten body. He wasn’t getting anywhere. His muscles were starting to spasm. He needed to breathe. Adam didn’t have much time. 

He knew what to do. He didn’t want to do it. He didn’t have much of a choice though. He fired the stun dart, missing, going right next to the man’s head, tickling him with the electricity. His other hand went to his hip, grabbing his pistol, and while the man was distracted, he fired. The bullet tore through his skull, up through his scalp, and blood splattered out and onto the wall behind him. 

Francis was free before the man had fallen to the ground and he was panting, sucking down air, and shoving himself forward, even as he fell. His hands were out, reaching, grabbing for Adam, and Adam fell to his knees, reaching out for him. He grabbed a hold of him easily, pulled him in, and wrapped his arms around him. He pressed a kiss to Francis’ scalp. Francis was struggling to breathe, even as he panted, but he wasn’t letting go of Adam, was hiding his face against Adam’s chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he wheezed, Adam running a hand down his back. “I’m sorry. Thank you.”

Adam shushed him, his lips grazing Francis’ cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s okay. I’m getting you out of here.”

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything,” his words were slurred, both by pain and from tears. Adam didn’t feel any moisture though, so he doubted that Francis was crying yet, but the blood itself was staining his bulletproof vest. “I just had to take it. I couldn’t help you at all.”

“You survived,” Adam kissed his cheek, feeling how swollen it was. “That’s all you had to do.”


	9. Chapter 9

He wiped the blood from Francis’ face, finding the damage to be mostly cosmetic. One eye was mostly swollen shut, his lip was split, and there was a gash in his forehead that was bleeding heavily, but it was nothing that he wouldn’t heal from. More worrying was his temple, where Adam could see the outline of his info link, a black bruise under the skin. They’d tazed him, that was how they’d turned him off, and the skin was swollen, the bruise spreading slowly. 

He would survive though. There would probably not be any scarring either. 

Adam stood up and Francis was weak, was stumbling, but he stood to, a hand still on Adam’s shoulder. He was standing close and Adam’s heart sank because he knew that Francis was hurting, that he was terrified and had been for so long, but Francis couldn’t see all of the people on the other side of the door, looking for them. Adam didn’t want to leave him there, especially not with a corpse, but he didn’t have any choice in the matter. 

“Francis, I know you’re going to hate me for this,” Adam breathed, turning, putting a hand on either of his shoulders, looking him square in the eye. “I need you to stay here, alright? I’ve got to go, take care of them, but I’ll be right back.”

Francis’ hand was knotted in Adam’s jacket, pale and shaking. He hadn’t cried yet but he seemed to be very very close to it. His mouth was a straight line, lips invisible, as he tried to keep himself together. “You’re going to leave me here?” 

He wasn’t. He wasn’t going to leave Francis alone, not for an instant, not until he was able to take care of himself, wasn’t so frightened, not unless he had to. And he had to. 

He raised a black thumb, swiped it along Francis’ jaw. “Francis, I’m not abandoning you, do you understand?”

“I’ll be small,” he promised, his voice shrill, the words running together. “I won’tgetin the way. I won’tcause trouble. Please,Adam. Please. Youcan’tleavemehere.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Adam brought up his other hand, held Francis by his cheeks, careful not to touch anything sensitive. Francis wouldn’t make eye contact. The corner of the room seemed to be much more appealing. “Francis. I didn’t come all the way over here just to put you in front of a firing squad. I’ll be back, I promise. I just need you to stay in here a little bit longer, out of sight.”

Francis was going to argue, of course he was, but Adam pulled him slightly closer and all that Francis could get out was a soft syllable before Adam was pressing their lips together. Warmth was flooding him, even with how cold Francis was. He was stiff, awkward, and then his hands were grabbing onto Adam’s wrists, not to push him away but to have something to cling to. He opened his mouth, let Adam inside of it, and he gasped as Adam swiped his tongue inside, tasting his blood. 

Adam had never kissed Francis, had never even thought to, but now that he was, it didn’t feel strange in the least, didn’t feel foreign. It felt like it should. It filled his lungs better than cigarette smoke and gave him more motivation than coffee. “I’ll be back,” he promised. “Just trust me.”

Francis finally looked at him, licking his split lip as if chasing a drop of whiskey. Adam gave him a wink and then moved into a corner of the room, running and then jumping up to reach the hole he’d made in the ceiling. 

“Ten minutes,” he offered back down. 

Francis watched him go, still not saying a word.


	10. Chapter 10

Adam stayed in the ceiling as long as he could, shooting down into the hallway, taking out one or two of them, before pulling back up and going to the next vent entrance. They were guessing, shooting upward, and Adam had to stop every once in a while, let the bullets cascade around him, into him, pressing into his polymer limbs and bullet proof vest. It barely hurt, and his healing factor took care of it all quickly, so he didn’t even need to worry about it. 

He’d never been so afraid while on the job before, not since he’d died. If he took too much damage, if they shot him in the right spot, he wouldn’t be able to heal from it. That wasn’t what terrified him. It was always a chance, on any job, that he would die far away from everyone who claimed to care about him. Now though, Francis’ life was on the line. If he died, Francis would too. 

Adam opened another vent, popped out, and tossed his last smoke grenade. He pulled back in even before the gas reached the nostrils of his targets and they were all yelling, shooting at his new location. He didn’t care as they ripped through his shoulders, his wrist, clipped his knee and went deep into his thigh. He grit his teeth as they punched into the vest, knocking the wind from him. 

A bullet in his hip, another in his chest, just a centimeter over the rim of the vest, and he was curling in on himself, wrapping his black arms around his head, trying to protect what was most fragile. The pain was stronger than before, such a strong reaction after so long without any. He was tight, a hand on his hip, feeling the blood gush out of him. He didn’t have any hypostims and, if he did, they’d all be going to the techs. He didn’t need them. This was nothing. Red was hard to see on all that black. 

The gunfire slowed, went silent. There were still a few of them out there, he was sure, but for the moment he could breathe. He pulled himself through the vents a while more, looking for anyone else who would give them trouble. His location marker was only showing three roaming targets at least. 

He was moving slower. Even with his leg augmented, the fact that he’d been shot in the hip made it hard to make it work. He had to drag the heavy limb behind him until it healed and flesh took so much longer than synthetic. 

He was out of stun darts. He could kill them, but they didn’t deserve that. They deserved to go to jail, to confess everything about the pandora algorithm, to make the information known. He didn’t deserve nightmares, more faces added to them. He’d already killed one of them and he knew that the trauma from that would haunt him and Francis for years. 

He copied the same attack from before, dropping down from one of the vents onto his target, one that was behind two others. Adam’s weight alone was enough to knock her to the ground and out, with a slight “whumph” but even that alerted the two in front of her. 

And Adam was slow. 

They turned on him, guns at the ready, and he grit his teeth. Their fingers were already on the triggers. He kept his body low, growled, and, with the last of his energy, turned on his invisible cloaking. He limped to the side, as quiet as he could, as they fired into the space he’d just been in. He only had a few seconds. Time was slow though, it all stretched out so much. He made his way behind them, right when his energy failed him. 

He grabbed them by the skulls and smacked them together, dropping them to the floor. He looked around, breathing, but there were no more moving triangles on the location marker. It was just him and the captives. 

He let himself fall then, lean against the wall, and pant. The wound in his clavicle was mostly healed already, mostly just crusted blood and a scab, his processors recognizing that wound as being much more threatening. The one in his hip though, that one was unimportant. It was still gushing slowly. 

Adam kicked the body of one of the guards while making his way to the end of the hall, to grab the key card. It would have been easier to just start there, at the last door, and get all of the techs out in order, but he’d promised Francis ten minutes. He was fairly certain that ten minutes had passed long before. 

He unlocked his door, leaning heavy against the frame, still breathing hard. The door opened slowly, revealing Francis, hidden away in a corner of the room, arms wrapped around himself and shivering, as if he’d been freezing. 

“Francis?” Adam called out. His voice sounded hollow, even to him. 

Francis looked up at him, his unswollen eye glassy. “You came back.”

Adam forced a little smile for him. “Of course I did. I promised.”

Francis pulled himself to his feet, took a few steps forward, and lost his balance, crashing against a wall. He was still shaking, his lips in a thin line. 

“You came all this way and I’m not even good enough to walk on my own,” he snarled. 

Adam pushed away from the wall, limped towards him. “Hey now, you just need like forty-eight hours of sleep and a good couple of meals in you. You’ll be fine.” He was trying not to favor his hip. He was trying not to show any pain. 

Francis wouldn’t take his eye off of the seeping wound. “You’re hurt.”

“Comes with the job description.”

Francis squeezed his eye, his fists, tightly, turning away. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t said anything… It’s my fault you got hurt.”

Adam forced himself the rest of the way to Francis, to grab a hold of his shoulder. He could feel Francis tighten, shift, but he was too tired to even flinch properly. “I would get hurt, a thousand times worse than this, to make sure you were alright.”

Francis looked up at him and Adam pulled back his lenses, even though he knew how wrong his eyes were, hoping that Francis could read him, could understand how honest he was being. Francis didn’t speak though. He didn’t react, emotionally, at all, other than a minuscule twitch to his lips. Then he was grabbing a hold of Adam again, wrapping his arms around him, hands tight with nerves but shoved under Adam’s jacket, as close to Adam’s skin as he could get. 

“You’re freezing,” Adam mentioned. 

Francis nodded. 

Adam slipped out of Francis’ hold and the man collapsed once more against the wall, as if hurt by rejection. Adam was just pulling off his jacket though and then he was getting Francis into it, making him look like a gawky teen in his dad’s coat. 

“Let’s go,” Adam put a hand on Francis’ shoulder, leading him out of the cell. 

“Not without the others,” Francis demanded, finally some strength in his voice. 

Adam chuckled, pulling Francis close once more. “Let’s go get the others,” he corrected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this wasn't what I wanted with this chapter, sorry. I took some new medication and I'm feeling real weird so that's that.


	11. Chapter 11

Getting everyone out was easy and they were all calm, all polite. None of them acted like this was a prison break. They were scared, for a moment, but when they saw the others they calmed down a bit. When they heard that the guards had all been taken care of they cooperated without hesitation. Those who could help the more downtrodden of them did so without question. 

Some of them stared at Adam like he was a superhero, some like an idol, some like an interesting machine. He kept his head down, his arm always present around Francis. He led them to the stairs and up them and it took a long time, so many of them too weak to go up a full flight of stairs without needing to take a break. Francis was one of them, but, while Adam would happily carry Francis, he couldn’t carry all of them. 

The police came half way through their climb and some of the techs cowered from them, trying to hide behind Adam. They took over and, only when Adam started to work with them did the techs start to trust them. Big men with their guns drawn and shields obscuring their faces were a bit too similar to those that had captured them in the first place. But the police were helpful and they broke off into groups, the majority of them joining Adam in getting people to the surface, where a stream of ambulances was already waiting. 

Francis was patient, even as he clung to Adam, as he swooned, so close to falling unconscious. He blinked in the sunlight before burying in his face in Adam’s side. He clung to him as had as Adam held him back, directing attention away from him. Adam wanted to get everyone taken care of, but he wouldn’t let the EMTs touch Francis. 

Instead he waited until no one was paying attention to them to slip into the shadows. He lifted Francis up easily, even though there was still a bit of a crick in his hip, and held him close. His friend didn’t fight him at all, just hid himself as best he could against Adam and with his coat, keeping his eyes closed. Adam could feel small puffs of air against his skin, and he found it calming, just to feel Francis breathe. Relief scored him and filled him and he whisked Francis down to where the cab sat waiting. 

The cabby was smart. Just as smart as he was on the way over. He kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the road. The entire drive Francis was leaned up against Adam, his hands on him. Adam swallowed. He’d wanted hands on him, those hands specifically, for so very long. It didn’t feel right though. Even as he put his hand on the back of Francis’s neck, just to rub gently against his skin, he knew that this wasn’t the touch that he wanted. It was what Francis needed though. And he knew that he would always give Francis what he needed.


	12. Chapter 12

“Mr. Jensen,” Dr. Pace started, looking him over from behind her thick lashes, like he was beneath her, even though he was a full foot taller. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.”

Francis was lying on the bed, on one of the two beds in the hotel room. He whimpered at the bright lights but turned, wincing further as he put pressure on the more swollen side of his face, looking over at Adam. His other eye was wide, fear obvious. The sedatives hadn’t yet kicked in and he reached out, reached for Adam. Adam looked at Francis and then back at Dr. Pace and he couldn’t stop and unknit his brow. 

“I’d prefer to stay,” he grumbled, “I’ll sit in the corner, I won’t be in your way unless you ask me to be.”

She squinted. She wasn’t used to having people questioning her. “There are things in Mr. Pritchard’s file here that state certain traits that he may not want to be seen by others. I’m going to ask once more to leave before I get your employer on the line to deal with you.”

He turned to give Francis another look. “Please,” Francis begged, not taking his eyes off Adam. “Please stay.”

“You heard the man,” Adam said, shrugging before pushing past her and walking over to Francis. His eye stayed on him the whole way, a small smile on his lips when Adam stopped, kneeling down on his good side. “He wants me here.”

He offered a black hand and Francis took it, his movement slow as the drugs kicked in. His eye was getting glossier by the second. “Thank you,” he all but murmured. He was trying to lead Adam’s hand somewhere but he wasn’t strong enough, his strength leaving him as the fog took over. Adam didn’t fight, let the most feathery of touches lead him. Francis was bringing Adam’s hand up to his face, to his cheek. Adam rolled his thumb over the sharp bone there and Francis all but purred as he slipped under the comforts of medication. 

Dr. Pace rolled her eyes as she came closer, digging into her bag for supplies. “Fine, do as you wish, just, remember doctor patient confidentiality. And give him some space.”

He nodded and, once he was sure that Francis was well and under, he moved to the chair in the corner.


	13. Chapter 13

A fractured cheek, broken nose, and three cracked ribs. It wasn’t that bad, not really, and Adam knew that he would recover quickly from them. Nothing was broken.   
He was malnourished but a solid month of eating would get him back on track. The worst of it was in his augmentations. His info link and a few of his other internal augs were completely fried, though the rest of them were glitchy and unusable. He had been “turned off” both when Adam was on the way and once more, earlier, probably when he’d been knocked unconscious. 

Dr. Pace had elected to not replace any of the augmentations, not until Francis was in a better state, when he’d returned to a healthy weight and was both physically and mentally sound. He wasn’t going to be going back to work anytime soon and, even if he did, his lack of augmentations would make working inefficient. Adam hadn’t even realized he was that heavily augmented. 

The worst of it was going to be his memory. 

“You mean he’s going to forget what they did to him?” Adam looked Francis over. He was nude but there was a thick blanket draped over him. It had been there as soon as Dr. Pace was done checking him over, rising up to cover more of his body as she finished with lower parts. Adam had been at keeping his eyes on the floor until Francis was decent. 

“No, that would be extremely lucky,” Dr. Pace admitted, “He’s going to remember most of it, but it’s very common for people who have been through these sorts of situations to be unable to make lasting memories after the fact. Depression, anxiety, abandonment issues, and self harm are also things to look out for. He might hurt himself and then forget why, which would lead to worse issues.”

Adam got up from his chair, heading over to Francis’ side. He was calm now, sleeping for the first time in who knows how long. Adam had seen him tired before but now his eyes both looked bruised from the bag beneath them. He was terribly pale as well, he looked horribly sick. 

He brushed a sticky strand of Francis’ hair away from his forehead. He needed a bath, badly. Adam didn’t want to offer to help him with that, knew how so much help would damage Francis’ pride, but he would if asked. He’d do anything, if Francis asked him. 

“Is there anything we can do to help him with his memory?” Adam asked. 

“Right now? No,” Dr. Pace was packing her things. “Later on we can get him a processor and memory pack so that he’ll be able to retain more information in a lossless form better than he ever could before. Until he’s ready for augmentation, he’ll have to resort to writing a lot of notes.”

Adam breathed hard through his nose. 

Once Dr. Pace left Adam sat on the other side of the bed. He traced at Francis’ bruises with a feather light touch of his thumb. He wondered just how much Francis would remember. He wondered how much he wanted Francis to remember.


	14. Chapter 14

Faridah took the other bed, though it was clear that she didn’t want to go to sleep. She had cute pjs, cuter than Adam had expected, warmer than she seemed comfortable with. They were same red orange as her flight suit with little cartoon bees on them. She winked at him and said it was just for the Scottish cold. 

Her eyes went to Francis quickly and then she was at his side, practically mothering him. Adam warned her of the more delicate places and she shot him a look, as if she knew better than he did. She did, in some ways. She had been friends with Francis longer than Adam had known him, was possibly Francis’ only real friend. Adam wondered if this got him on the list. 

Faridah climbed onto the bed and replaced Francis’ pile of pillows with her own lap. Adam had never seen someone be so physical with Francis before. He almost wanted to stop her when he saw Francis’ drugged eyebrows twitch. She was pulling the band from his ponytail though and she was humming some old rock song as his long black hair spread out over her lap. It was greasy and filthy and full of knots but she started to dig into them, untying what she could as she finger combed through the strands. Francis relaxed again almost immediately. 

“What’s the plan now?” she asked and Adam knew that the question was directed at him even though she wasn’t taking her eyes off of Francis. 

“A few days here, at least until he’s rested up,” Adam shrugged, “then home. A bit of time off for Francis and, then he can get his augmentations replaced and go back to work.”

“Is it really bad?” 

“Dr. Pace said that he was lucky.”

Normally Faridah was loud and boisterous and elbowing people when they didn’t laugh at her jokes. Right now she was terribly serious. It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. 

“He’s going to sleep for a long time,” she sniffed and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. “You know that’s what he does on Holiday breaks? He doesn’t visit family or anything, I don’t think he has any family, he just goes home and conks out until he has to eat and it’s usually me busting down his door with some leftovers.”

“You want to share the bed with him?” Adam asked. They were closer, Francis trusted her.

“He could have the whole bed to himself and we can curl up in the other,” she pondered. “I don’t know what would be best for him. He needs a lot of space for healing up and all that but, at the same time, I think he needs to be touched.”

“You’re the one with a human touch,” Adam pressed. 

“Yeah, but he likes you,” Faridah said in a dreamy voice before she paused in her ministrations, eyes wide. Quickly she turned on him, floundering. “I didn’t say that! Okay? You didn’t hear it from me.” 

Adam blanked and stared. He was just going to pass it off as a compliment but then the way that Faridah panicked made him reconsider, made the truth of Francis’ feelings come rushing to him. He didn’t think that Francis liked him. He didn’t think that Francis was capable of standing him more than work forced them to interact. That made it sound like a crush though. 

He scuffed the floor with a foot, biting at his lip as he looked away from her. “You don’t think he’ll freak out waking up in a bed with me in it?”

She relaxed as he didn’t bring it up. “Just, keep a barrier, maybe? A sheet between you two. I don’t know if he’d be comfortable yet with you seeing him naked.


	15. Chapter 15

Francis didn’t dream. He turned in his sleep, turned towards Adam and it was just the moving of the blankets that made Adam wake up. His features were smooth and soft, even with the damage. He looked softer than Adam could ever remember him looking before. He wanted to reach out and touch him. The dreams would come later. 

When he did wake it was halfway through the next day. Adam had only moved to scoot up the bed, to sit and watch television, quietly, seeing the fallout of their actions from the day before on the news. Faridah was dressed and ready to go and had made a few trips back and forth from the free breakfast buffet that the hotel had set up. 

Francis gave Adam such a sweet smile before his eyebrows scrunched and he looked around. 

“Where are we?” he asked, his voice cracking from disuse. 

“Safe,” Adam promised and the smile came back when he ran his hand through Francis’ hair.

They ate heartily and it was a good thing that Faridah had brought so much food up because Adam needed the calories to fill up his spent batteries from the day before and it had been days since Francis had last eaten. They ate all of it, albeit Francis did so slowly. 

They didn’t talk about what had happened. 

Francis looked nervous when Faridah helped him out of the bed, looking back at Adam as if he was afraid that when they got back Adam would be gone. 

“I’ll be right here,” he promised, and squeezed Francis’ hand before he, wrapped in a blanket, was led to the bathroom. 

He could hear Faridah talking through the wall, even over the water running for the bath. She was taking good care of him but still Adam didn’t want Francis to be out of his sight. He wanted to be there. He wanted to take care of him. 

He stretched and turned the channel away from the educational children’s programming that had just been making noise back to the news. He didn’t pay too much attention to it. His mind was too busy racing. He knew that he liked Francis, liked the fact that he made petty jibes at him that no one else would ever dare to, didn’t seem to notice the augmentations unless they were the source of some small joke, didn’t look at him any differently now than he did before the accident. He hadn’t let the feelings blossom into anything though, they were just friends, maybe, if he was lucky. But then he’d kissed him and he didn’t know why he did that but he had. It had just been a little bit of a slip up. He didn’t know how Francis had felt yet. He didn’t know how Francis felt now. 

He wondered if Francis remembered the kiss. 

When they came back out of the bathroom Francis looked completely different. He was clean and brushed and he looked far healthier than he had in days. He also looked small though, they way he was holding onto Faridah paired with how uncomfortable he looked in her clothes. Adam barked out a laugh and Francis just hid a bit further, tugging down the shirt that was too big for Faridah but still too small for him. They hadn’t even thought to pack him any clothes so he was trapped in a soft shirt with a big fat bee on it that was sitting on a bright pink flower and said “honey life” and even softer gym shorts. He looked all manner of gawky and long in them. 

“Go on,” she passed Francis off to Adam, who helped him back into the bed. “You guys take a nap or whatever, I’m going to buy Frank something.” 

“It’s fine,” he grumbled, crawling under the blankets to hide his shameful attire. The moment Adam was touching his bare skin, even if it was with a robotic hand, he started to relax. 

“It’s not. I’ll see you guys later.”

With that she was gone and it was just the two of them. Francis didn’t say anything and neither did Adam. It was too quiet but it was nice enough, just to hear one another breathe. He wanted to ask Francis some questions, ask him about feelings and things like that, ask him if he was alright. 

Francis pulled in close to him though and rested a safe spot of his face against a soft spot of Adam’s chest. He held his breath and Adam was about to ask him about it when he finally started breathing again, timing his own breaths to match Adam’s. His hair was still wet and Adam played with it, not paying it much mind, as Francis slowly fell back asleep against him. 

Adam couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t move. No one, not even Megan, had ever slept on him like this. He’d seen his parents do it, when he was little, and he knew that it was intimate and caring ad trusting. He didn’t want to wake Francis for anything. He didn’t want to damage that trust when that was all Francis had at the moment to cling to.


	16. Chapter 16

Adam was used to nightmares. He had at least one most nights. The people that he couldn’t save. The people that he’d had to kill. The people that he should have killed. He didn’t have any dreams though, not when he was lying next to Francis, now in his own pajamas. He did nothing to touch Francis in his sleep, kept that barrier up that Faridah had told him to, but he did nothing when Francis touched him in his sleep. It wasn’t anything really, just a foot stretched out and pressing against his synthetic ankle, but he still didn’t move. He didn’t know if it was just because he didn’t want to wake Francis up or if it was that he was selfishly soaking in the feeling that he barely even registered as pressure. 

In the nights that Adam had no nightmares, Francis had plenty. It took a night to catch up to him, everything that had happened, but now, as he was lying next to Adam, he was twitching. A swift kick to his knee woke Adam up, not that he was seeping hard anyway, too on alert to sleep through noises. Francis wasn’t making noise though. 

At first it looked like muscle spasms and Adam was ready to ignore them and go back to sleep. But then he saw the pinched eyebrows, the scrunched eyes, the deep set frown. The twitches were in his face too, like that of a cat in REM sleep. 

Adam knew that it was a mistake, that he should just let Francis sleep, but he brought up a hand to smooth away the deep line in his brow. As soon as he touched the skin there Francis let out a long whispery whine. His expression shifted, his teeth grit as if he was trying to keep it in, te direction of his eyebrows changing. Big heavy tears pooled in his long eyelashes before dripping down his cheeks, pooling on the side of his nose. He didn’t sob, not really, just made a high pitched, broken sound, deep in his throat. 

He threw a glance at Faridah, but she moaned and rolled over in her sleep. She’d be waking up soon enough if he didn’t stop this. 

Adam put his hand on Francis’ cheek, where the bruising was subsiding, and pulled closer to him, almost close enough to put their foreheads together. 

“Shhh,” he whispered, “I’m here Francis. Everything’s okay now.”

The sound woke Francis up more than he expected and there was a split second of calm before fear overtook him, and then awe. “Adam? You’re here?” 

Adam looked at him quizzically before he remembered. Dr. Pace had said that he’d have memory problems. He gave him a soft smile, hoping that it would soothe him. “Of course I’m here. I came as soon as I could. You’re safe now.”

Francis wiped at his face and then it scrunched up further and he worked on rolling over, away from him. “I didn’t want you to see this. I didn’t want you to ever see me like this.”

It was probably a mistake, but Adam took him by the shoulder and turned him back around, moving even closer. He let Francis bury his battered face into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, let him hide in it and cry in it. He ran his fingers down Francis’ back. 

“It’s okay. You can cry if you want to. No judgments here,” he promised into Francis’ perfumed hair. “I’ve got you.”

Francis clung to him then, his fingers tight in the back of Adam’s shirt, twisting and pulling at it. His sobs were choked and quiet and horrible. They sounded like they hurt. Adam remembered that moment, when Francis hung up, even though he was alone in that place. Now he knew, Francis had been crying, and he’d wanted to be alone for it, because he didn’t know how Adam would react. 

“Thank you,” Adam said, curling around so that his lips could brush Francis’ ear. “Thank you for trusting me. You’re so strong and brave and we are here for you. We love you. We’re not going to let anything happen to you again.”

Francis just cried harder. He didn’t stop, not until exhaustion took him over and he fell back asleep pressed against Adam’s wet chest.


	17. Chapter 17

Detroit. Home. Adam didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d never been to Francis’ apartment before but he wasn’t surprised by how small it was. Black walls with elegant lighting, lots of lighting, and a large desk with so many monitors and computer towers on it that it looked like it would be impossible to untangle all of the wires if they needed to be. The bedroom was sparse and a little bit depressing, but there was another computer on another sleek silver desk, right next to the bed that was hardly more than a mattress in a wooden box. There were some books though, at least. 

And Francis was glad to be home. He kicked off his shoes and tossed aside his jacket before sighing and entering the apartment fully, shoulders slumping, relaxing, more than he had at any point in the last few days. 

“You sure you’ll be alright?” Adam said from the doorway. There was no one else there, he’d already checked the perimeter and checked through his location marker. Francis was safe. Francis would be safe. 

“I don’t need anyone playing mother hen for me, Jensen,” Francis rolled his eyes, “It’s over. That whole thing is over. I’m ready for things to just get on with it.”

Adam wanted to reach out, to touch him, to keep him there. The entire flight back he’d started to slip back into his normal self and now, other than same fading bruises, he was finally his usual asshole self again. Each mile between him and that place was another step towards him being unafraid. 

“Not quite,” Adam reminded him, “Sarif doesn’t want to see your face around the office for another week, at the very least.”

“We’ll see,” Francis crossed his arms. He was shut off. He was safe, from everyone, and that included Adam. “If he doesn’t let me back in before I get too bored you’ll know. I’ve been curious about how tight security is over at Picus.”

“You wouldn’t.” 

“You don’t know me when I’m bored Jensen.”

He hissed, internally. He didn’t want Francis to see just how much that hurt, how much he already hated being called ‘Jensen’ again. ‘Adam’ had felt so good coming from him. 

He lingered, black fingers on the door frame. “Well, send me an email or something if things get that bad. I’ll come running.”

“Yeah,” Francis shrugged, “Sure.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking 2 or 3 chapters left! Hopefully a bit longer than these.

Adam went back to work. He went home. He lived his life. Everything went back to normal, with him anyway. He had extra work, though he didn’t know much about cyber security, but there weren’t really any expectations from him. In fact, with Francis gone, the work days were a lot shorter, because Sarif was worried that something was going to get through while there was no one to catch it. It meant people were getting paid less but they were happier, just to be able to go home and spend some time with their families. 

It gave Adam more time to walk around and think, waiting, hoping, to hear from Francis. He didn’t have anyone waiting for him at home. He had no dependents. Other than Faridah and Francis he didn’t have any friends and Faridah was on a mission driving dignitaries around and Francis wasn’t talking to him. It had been three days since he’d dropped Francis off at home, three days since he’d heard from him. He should have checked up on him, he knew that, but he also didn’t want to push him. 

So he walked and he breathed in the Detroit smoke and he stayed away from the rougher parts of town that hated augs. Normally he’d go for them, just to let off some steam, but he didn’t have the energy to and he was too nervous. If something happened to him and Francis needed him he would hate to let him down. So he kept himself safe. 

He went home at around 11pm and tried to tinker with some of his clockwork, though that was going nowhere. He had all the parts out, had started on a big project after moving in, but it hadn’t progressed at all. He couldn’t focus on it. 

He smoked but the filters cleared out the nicotine before it reached his lungs. 

He drank but his healing factor cured him of poisoning before it could take effect. 

He pulled out a book and was flipping through it, a small smile on his lips. He’d never been a baker, but he had a book on it, and he’d always wanted to. It just felt bad to make something for no one. There was never anyone to share it with. He wondered if he could use baking as an excuse to visit Francis. 

A ding from his computer pulled him from the recipe he had settled on and he hurried over to the monitor, finding that it was from Francis. His heart was thundering as he clicked on it, because, while he’d been waiting to hear from him that meant that something was up. 

“Jensen, can you come by?” was the entire message. It didn’t tell him anything. 

“I was about to do some shopping. Can I do it on the way?” he asked, “What is this about?”

“Pick me up some milk would you?”

His lips twitched into a frown but he closed down his computer anyway. Francis didn’t want to tell him what it was, which meant that it was emotional. Francis wasn’t good at emotions. He packed up his book and grabbed some bags for groceries and went down to the garage. He rarely took his car out but Francis was a bit of a ways away and, if something was up, he didn’t want to take too long.


	19. Chapter 19

There was no answer when he knocked on the door. It was unlocked though and he pushed his way inside without issue. Not even the security system beeped at him. 

“Francis?” he called out. He didn’t see Francis anywhere. What he did see though, was a mess. It was worse than his own apartment, the way that there was garbage from food and wrappers everywhere, as if Francis just didn’t have the energy to take care of the mess. He knew what depression and exhaustion looked like and he put the bags of groceries down on the counter before going in deeper. 

“Francis?” He called out again, heading towards the bedroom. There was still no answer. He was starting to get worried. He was trying not to be though. It wouldn’t help anything, not until he knew for sure that Francis wasn’t alright. His location marker did show that Francis was in there though.

The bedroom door was closed and he knocked on it. “Francis? I’m going to come in, alright?” He turned the knob and pushed inside. 

There were clothes on the bed and sheets on the floor, the thinnest and lowest of which had been pulled out from under the rest, pulled out and wrapped around Francis, who was on the floor, knees tucked into his chest, against the wall. His eyes were wild and the bags under them as dark as ever. 

“What happened?” Adam drew closer but his movement, too fast, too rough, had Francis moving under the sheet, pulling out a small paring knife. Adam put up his hands, slowing his movements. “Hey, Francis, it’s just me. You know a knife like that won’t do shit against me so let’s just put that down.”

“Adam?” Francis rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and Adam noticed the smear of dark red, almost black, all down his arm. Old blood, thick and dried to flaking, but not moving so it stayed in place. “What are you doing here?” 

“Shit,” he ran a hand through his hair, ruining his look but displaying how nervous he was. “Dr. Pace said you’d be having memory problems. You invited me here, sent me an email. Asked if I could come by and pick up some milk.”

“Why would I do that?” He seemed to have forgotten about the knife, just staring at Adam with a glazed expression. 

“I’m guessing it’s because you were confused and hurting and you needed a big strong man to stop that.” 

Francis looked at the blood on his wrist and winced. “I don’t need a big strong man.” 

“Then what do you need?”

Francis gulped. He looked thin still, ragged. “I need to not be alone. I thought. I thought I might still be back there. I thought that I was all alone again.”

This time, when Adam reached out, Francis let him take the knife. He took it with one hand and took Francis’ wrist with the other, turning it so that the wounds were faced up. He tutted as he pocketed the knife, putting that hand on Francis’ back, urging him up and to his feet. “You should have called me sooner.”

“And what, have you hover?” He was trying to deflect with that sarcasm that he considered humor, “I don’t need a babysitter, Jensen. I don’t need someone doting on me every other minute. I don’t need someone around to judge and pity me.”

Adam blinked, realized that he still had his lenses on, and retracted them. The moment his eyes were in view Francis was making eye contact with him, was more pliant and allowed himself to be maneuvered. 

“I’m not going to pity you or judge or any of the rest of that long list. You went through hell, Francis. No one should have had to go through that. I don’t think you’re weak-

“But I need a big strong man.”

“I think you need help getting back on your feet. And I want to be there for you because I respect you, Francis.” 

Francis was back to not looking at him, but he was standing at least, letting Adam lead him to the restroom. At least their apartments were similarly built, although Francis’ was much much smaller. He muttered something but Adam didn’t catch it, not even the part that came out as a broke rasp in the threat of a sob. 

He wanted to ask, he wanted to prove whatever that hurt was wrong, but instead he let Francis hide what he must have thought he needed to. He ran the water in the sink, got it warm enough, and ran Francis’ arm under it. It seemed that all of the damage was to his nondominant arm at least. 

“Do you want to explain this?” he asked, keeping his voice was soft and nonthreatening as he could. 

Francis shook his head. “I don’t know. I think. I wanted control and I wanted to feel? I couldn’t tell. I wasn’t sure if I was real or not.” 

Adam kept his touch as delicate as he could as he rubbed the wounds. None of them had been bandaged or cleaned and it was only his blood clotting that had kept them closed. He was used to seeing blood though. And he was used to wanting to feel, he could understand that. 

He kissed Francis’ hairline as he stretched past him, opening the medicine cabinet to get to his first aid kit. 

“Why do you keep doing that?” Francis hissed. “I’m not some good luck charm or anything.”

“I just like it,” Adam shrugged, “I’ll stop if you tell me to.”

Francis didn’t stop him. He didn’t tell Adam not to, he just stood still and let Adam wrap his wrist in gauze. They stood there in silence for a few minutes, almost too long, and, while Francis was staring at his wrist, looking tired and timid, Adam could feel a small tug to his lips, a small smile coming to him easily. 

He liked to take care of people and he liked being with Francis, and he liked having his hands on someone without violence. 

“Milk!” he suddenly jerked away, making Francis jump. He quickly tied off the gauze and returned to the kitchen, putting away the groceries. The milk was still cold but it was wet from condensation and the rest of what he’d gotten was still okay, though the frozen dinners he’d picked up on a whim were half thawed. He put them away quickly and, when he was done, he found Francis standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall. 

“You moving in?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. 

Adam flashed him a smile and, when Francis gave him a small one back, he turned away slightly, feeling his own smile turn into a grin. “Your kitchen looks worse than mine, I thought you could use some actual protein.”

Francis pulled his hair out of his ponytail and shook his head so that it wound around his face before sliding back. It looked greasy all over again and a bit tangled. Adam started to go through his drawers until he found what he needed, a small, half used box of corn starch and bottle of cinnamon. He mixed the two in a bowl quickly before bringing it over to Francis and touching him by the elbow gently. 

“You want me to do your hair?”

“The hell are you thinking of doing to it?” He stared at the bowl. 

Adam rolled his eyes, “It a quick dry shampoo, it’s not going to hurt you.” 

“How do you know how to make dry shampoo?”

He didn’t move them far, just to the couch, and Francis sat on the floor, between Adam’s legs. “This might come as a surprise, but I have depression, Francis. I know how hard it can be to go take a shower.” 

“Well, color me surprised,” Francis sighed as he lay his head on Adam’s thigh, letting him sprinkle some of the mix into his hair, “Here I thought you were the perfect man, all muscle and trimmed beard.” 

Adam almost balked at the compliment before he covered for it, sifting the mixture in deeper, all the way to the scalp. He almost couldn’t see his own fingers from the black on black. “Perfect? I think you got me confused for someone else.”

“Hmmm,” Francis slurred, sounding like he was about to fall asleep under Adam’s massaging of his skin and hair, “I don’t think I do.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a while. It's a lot longer than the rest and I am so tired. I got a promotion at work so now I'm full time and my body can't really handle it with my usual chronic fatigue. 
> 
> I realized that I've never seen a fic in which Adam bakes a cake and he has a book on it in HR so he needed to make a cake at some point.

Adam decided that the best choice would be to lead by example. He woke up well before Francis did and put a sticky note on his alarm clock that read “Adam is in the kitchen”. On the door there was another that said “Your memory’s trashed. Take notes”. On the door to the bathroom it said “You invited Adam over”. On the mirror it said “Shower”. In the shower it said “Don’t worry about anything”. And in the waste bin of the kitchen, crinkled into a little ball, there was a note reading “You’re loved” but Adam knew that that wouldn’t come across right and it felt wrong and strange to write it. 

Francis’ apartment may have been similar in design to Adam’s but his kitchen was completely different. He couldn’t find anything without tearing open all of the drawers. He was about half way through with his project, which had taken far too long, just getting the eggs right had taken too long, and was regretting trying this for the first time at Francis’ place. 

He could hear Francis’ footsteps and grunts and then he heard the shower running. That was something at least, meant that some of his notes were working. He cleaned up a bit while Francis showered before getting back to work. He didn’t want to leave a mess. It was obvious that Francis was in no state to clean it up. 

The oven was preheating and Adam as still mixing but was, at least, close to done by the time Francis came out into the living room, wearing soft black lounge pants and a loose fitting black shirt. It wasn’t the sort of thing he’d ever wear to work, but it was still dressier than pajamas and pairs together it looked really good. Francis looked looked good, far better than he had the day before, and the long sleeves of his shirt covered the new scabs on his arm. 

“You haven’t left yet?” Francis looked Adam over, pulling his hair back from his face, “What are you even doing?” 

“Of course not and none of your business,” Adam retorted, trying to keep his tone the same as back before all of this happened, back when they constantly bullied one another. 

“It’s my kitchen.”

“They’re my ingredients. You’ll know when it’s ready.”

Francis rolled his eyes and scooched past him to the refrigerator, digging through it for the milk and some leftovers that he really shouldn’t touch. They were there from before Francis was abducted. He didn’t say anything though and when Francis turned to make coffee he was clearly confused by the fact that there already was coffee made and hot, ready for him. 

“You’re snooping through my cabinets?”

Adam waved him off, “I’m head of security, it’s my job to snoop.”

“You’re head of Sarif Security, not Pritchard Security.”

Adam set the bowl down while Francis was pouring himself a cup, wrapping his black arms around Francis’ middle, making the man squeak in surprise. He didn’t mention it and he wasn’t going to make Francis aware that he heard the soft sound. He didn’t want to forget it. He held Francis close, his nose against Francis’ shoulder, while Francis tried to remain steady, not spill any of the hot liquid, and acted like this didn’t rattle him. 

“Can I get a promotion then?” Adam asked, not lifting his head, “I wouldn’t mind being head of Pritchard Security.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Francis said and Adam could see him thinking, trying to remember something. He pulled himself away and Francis visibly relaxed. He was trying to remember if something had happened between them, if there was a reason that Adam was being so soft with him. It was a romantic gesture, Adam knew that, but he found that he wanted those soft touches, to hold and kiss Francis gently, even if it was strictly platonic. 

“Oven’s up to heat,” Francis stated, voice monotone and words fast, as he put his leftovers in the microwave. He couldn’t seem to get out of the kitchen fast enough. 

Adam poured the batter into two round pans that he was surprised that Francis even had. When the microwave dinged Francis came back into the kitchen to grab his food and a fork, and then he was moving back to the living room, curling up on his couch. 

Adam put the pans in the oven, set the timer, and made his way out, to sit on the other end of he couch. He’d barely sat down when Francis spoke. 

“What are we, Adam?” he asked, a slight wobble to his voice, “Did we do something last night that made you less of an insufferable asshole?”

Adam raised an eyebrow and gave a light chuckle. “I didn’t think I was ever insufferable, just giving back in kind. But no, nothing happened between us, we didn’t do anything you would be ashamed of. I slept next to you but we didn’t touch or anything.”

“Then why are you so persistent in touching me now?” Francis was staring at his coffee. 

“I just like touching you, is that alright? I know, after the incident, no one would touch me, and I thought it was because they thought I was inhuman or fragile or just disgusting. But I think I get it a bit more now. I think people were afraid that I’d pull away from them.” He was careful, keeping his stance wide, arms open. He wanted to be as nonthreatening as possible. “I’d like to think of us as friends and, not being touched hurt so badly, I don’t want you to go through that.” 

Francis stared at him and then he stared at his feet and then he stared at the window. He didn’t respond, but he drank his coffee and he was so stiff, almost robotic. Adam wanted to say something, make him relax, get something to change. But he didn’t know what and he didn’t know how Francis would react. There was another reason that he was touching Francis, but if he said that he was sure that he’d get kicked out of his apartment. 

“I’m sorry,” Francis stated, so quietly that Adm wasn’t sure he’d said anything at all. He swallowed and he tried again. “I was one of them. I never touched you, aside from when I fixed your optics. I didn’t know what was you and what wasn’t and I didn’t know if it hurt.” 

Adam reached over, almost touching Francis’ cheek, just leaving his fingers loosely curled a few millimeters away. He didn’t know if Francis wanted to be touched. He leaned in though, and Adam sighed, adjusting, and running his fingers over the sharp bone. “It’s okay. Just, thank you for letting me touch you.”

Francis drew a little bit closer and he was licking his lips and he still looked very nervous and awkward. “I could, y’know, touch you more, if you want.”

Adam’s heart lept into his throat because he knew there was nothing dirty in there and he knew that there was nothing romantic but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting it. He wanted to get just a little bit closer. He wanted to grab Francis by the jaw and hold him steady so he could kiss him again. Over the past couple days, he thought about that kiss, and it shouldn’t have meant anywhere near as much to him as it had. 

But he could do nothing because the oven was beeping. 

Francis flinched when he jumped to his feet, rushing back into the kitchen. It was a good thing that he didn’t feel heat, because he didn’t have time to look for the oven mitts. Instead he just pulled the oven open and hissed as the heat hit his face, ignoring it to grab one pan before the other and set them on the counter. 

“Toothpicks?” Adam called out. 

“Why do you need toothpicks?” Francis replied, not moving from the couch. 

“I need to see if it’s done!” 

“Third drawer down on the right side of the oven!” Francis called out. 

Adam held his breath as he dipped the toothpick into one and the then the other pan, only breathing when they both came out clean. He then moved them to cooling racks and started to work on the next part. Francis spoke sparingly and he always answered quickly, trying to keep the conversation going. He filled Francis in on work and how Faridah was doing. 

At one point Francis went quiet and it was very pointed. When he asked, it was with resignation, as if he knew it was beyond hope. “What happened to my bike?”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Adam promised as he started to put everything he’d made together. It was a lot of work just to find out if it was even edible. “David’s taken it to a shop, he’s getting it fixed up, just the way it was.”

“He better not add anything new to it,” Francis grumbled. 

Adam chuckled, “You know he will.”

A few finishing touches and it was done. Adam put it on a plate and carefully, probably too carefully, he brought it over, setting it on the coffee table in front of Francis. 

“You made a cake?” Francis asked. 

“Chocolate. It’s the easiest one in the book that still had frosting and shit.” 

Francis stared at him. “It’s like I don’t even know you, Adam Jensen.” 

And there it was, Adam. Not Jensen, though that was there, but the way that Francis said his name just made him melt. People treated his first name like it was some trade secret and in Francis’ mouth it felt safe. 

“I, uh, I got a book on baking years ago. I don’t know why, but I always felt like I didn’t have an excuse to make anything from it. You’re going to have to be nice to me, it’s my first one.”

“Nice to you?” Francis chuckled, watching as Adam went back t the kitchen for some coffee, plates, forks, and a knife. “I couldn’t be nice to you, you’ll get spoiled.”

He swallowed though, when Adam came back, eyes big and reading over him. Adam didn’t say a word as he cut into the cake, the knife gliding easily. 

“No,” Francis suddenly whispered. Adams’ attention shot up to him. “I think I could be nice to you. If you asked.”

Adam’s smile spread and he dished up a more than healthy sized piece of cake for Francis, handing it over. Francis’ fingers brushed his and Adam couldn’t feel the temperature of them but he could feel the pressure; it was feather-light, as if he wasn’t supposed to notice it. 

Adam leaned forward, bringing his lips to Francis’ cheek, wanting to kiss him again, albeit lightly. Francis moved at the last moment though and his lips instead brushed against Francis’ own. It wasn’t a kiss, not really, but Adam felt the urge to make it into one. Francis pulled away though, looking guilty, looking down at the piece of cake in their hands. 

“Back there, you killed someone for me. I wanted to go with you, out of that horrible room, but you made me stay.” Adam wanted to interrupt him, apologize, but Francis’ voice was so soft and delicate, he had to hear this out. “You kissed me. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, the fact that you kissed me and what it meant. I thought it was some attempt to shut me up. You’ve kept kissing me though, not on the mouth, but just about everywhere else you could.”

Adam didn’t move, even after Francis took the plate from him and set it in his lap. “What do you want from me Jensen? Do you want me to pay you back for everything you’ve done for me? Are the kisses something you actually want to give or are they something else? Are you trying to manipulate me into giving you something?” 

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if Francis was even going to remember this conversation. He just knew that he liked Francis, a lot, far more than he’d ever expected, and he wanted the man to understand that, even if he didn’t reciprocate it. 

“What do you think it means?”

“Pity maybe?” Francis mused. “I remember you saying that you liked kissing me but I don’t know what that means, not really. You said people don’t touch you so I can easily think that you just want someone to touch you. I think maybe, you want something. Everyone does.”

Adam sat next to the cake, on the coffee table. His heart was pounding in his ears. Francis was still staring at his hands, now curled in front of his plate. 

“I don’t want anything from you, Francis,” he explained. “I just like being with you. And I want to keep kissing you.”

“Why?” there was a hint more venom in his words as he glared up at Adam. “No one does things for me, not unless they think they can get something out of it. And I know what I am, what my place in the world is. I know what they say and how true it is.”

Adam wanted to interject but, at this point he thought that Francis would kick him out if he argued. That was something he decidedly did not want. 

He barely heard how Francis muttered, “Ugly bitches try harder.”

Adam’s hand was on his knee though and his other hand was on Francis’ face, and he was pulling him closer, gently, just nudging him, and he was nudging Francis’ lips open with his own, so he could kiss him better, deeper, try to get as much of the love that he felt into Francis as he could. It was a lifeline, he knew that, and it was his honesty. He couldn’t state it better, he couldn’t explain it. He wanted Francis to understand but he didn’t know how to make him believe him. So he kissed Francis and he only pulled away when Francis needed to breathe and then he was kissing the salt off of Francis’ cheeks, away from his eyes. 

“They were lying,” Adam promised, kissing his temple, “They wanted you vulnerable and broken. You’re not. You’re not ugly and you’re not broken. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen and you’re tougher than nails. You might be a wirey little guy but you’re persistent and brave and loud mouthed and so full of energy that sometimes I wish you’d just let me take care of you. Now I finally have that chance. And you’re still so strong and so beautiful.”

Francis was sobbing then, hiccuping around the sounds. He was pushing Adam away, so used to being alone while he cried, wanting to be alone, but he was pulling him closer too. He didn’t know what he wanted. Adam decided for him then, holding him tightly, letting him break apart against him. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone like I do you,” Adam admitted. He had no way of knowing if his words came through.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another long pause. Sorry. Work is killing me and it's not taking it's time.

The cake turned out good, a little dry and flat but the coffee took care of that. It was a little bit difficult to eat though, since Francis wouldn’t release his hand at any point. Adam didn’t know if Francis believed him fully, but that was alright. But when the coffee was drank and the slices were just crumbs, Francis looked tired and distant, the grip on Adam’s hand having gone weak. 

“I think it’s time we took a nap,” Adam suggested, standing and pulling Francis up along with him. He came easily, glaring at their dishes, even though Adam planned to take care of them later. 

Adam led them back to Francis’ bedroom and got them situated in bed. He wasn’t terribly tired, though the caffeine didn’t effect him anymore the sugar did and he felt the calories charge all of his augments, make him want to move. 

“I feel like sleeping is all I ever do now,” Francis complained, even when he crawled under the sheets. “Why are you on top of the sheets?”

“Faridah told me you wanted a barrier between us,” Adam shrugged. 

“Get in here.” It was supposed to sound like a demand but with how soft Francis’ voice had gotten and with how he was looking at Adam it sounded almost furtive, like a prayer. Adam readjusted, sliding in next to him fully, and he held his breath as Francis pulled closer, laying a head on Adam’s pectoral and wrapping an arm around his middle. “Is this alright?”

Adam itched, he found himself yearning, for more of this contact. He never thought that Francis would be a cuddler but he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He wanted to be touched everywhere. Just this small amount of contact, after so long without any, made him respond terribly, feeling a pressure in his lower stomach and tears prick at his eyes. 

“It’s perfect,” he admitted, “You’re perfect.”

Francis huffed. “I don’t agree but I won’t argue.” 

They lay there for a while, slipping in and out of sleep, resting and breathing. Francis’ hand kept skimming around, searching for something, and even though Adam was still dressed he was breathing more shallowly, exhales hitching and coming out in broken little shakes. 

“You’re sensitive,” Francis noted and Adam could see the smile forming. 

“People don’t really touch me much,” Adam reminded, “You can stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Francis pulled up, supporting his weight on one elbow as he planted his hand firmly on Adam’s stomach, fingers splayed. His pupils were blown and there was a look on his face that stated that he knew exactly what he was doing. 

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I was uncomfortable,” Francis explained before he leaned down, kissing Adam for the first time. He hummed against Francis’ mouth, fisting the sheets to stop himself from grabbing Francis and pulling him closer. He wanted more. He wanted everything. “Are you?”

“Feeling a bit pent up but I’m fine,” Adam was honest. Not as honest as he could be because if he was he would be grabbing Francis by the shoulders and shoving him down against the mattress to press kisses against his lips and neck, to open him up, to let all of that energy hiding in his polymer parts make itself known in the vulgarity of his motions. But he didn’t want to hurt Francis and he didn’t want to assume anything. 

That hand trailed a little lower, resting just under Adam’s bellybutton, and he knew, without a doubt, that Francis knew what he was doing. His pinkie was just a few centimeters away from Adam’s genitals and the contact, the touching, the kissing, just being close to Francis, was riling him up so much. He wanted more. He wanted everything. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” Adam promised. 

Francis buried his face in Adam’s neck, a tremor forming in his shoulders. “Shit, I want to though.”

“You’re shaking.”

Francis looked up, glaring at him, but even then Adam could see that there was pink in his cheeks, lust in his eyes, and his bottom lip was swollen and red from his biting it. “What, you think I go out and seduce men often? I’m allowed to be nervous.”

Adam ran a hand against Francis’ jaw, back towards his hair. “You’re more than a little nervous. We don’t have to do anything.”

Francis hid his face again, burying it between Adam’s shoulder and the pillow. “I hate this. Every single time I’m with someone new I do this. I get all freaked out and it’s fine. It’s almost always fine.”

“Almost?” Adam wished that he could see Francis’ face. 

“Yeah, I’ve had a few bad experiences. Pretty sure those guys would have killed me, just like they did Dr. Pace, if they found out. Every time I try to be intimate with someone I have to gauge how they’ll react when they realize.”

Adam stroked Francis’ back, pulling him up onto his own body. He was smothered in black hair but he didn’t move it. He could feel Francis shaking against him. He almost wanted to say that they didn’t have to do anything and really, he was fine with that, they didn’t have to, but he knew he was just repeating himself now. 

“I don’t have a dick.” 

Adam paused, just for a moment, and then he remembered. He started to laugh, the movement jerking Francis against his body, and he could feel how Francis tensed, how he almost pulled away, but Adam was grabbing him by the jaw and giving him gentle kisses again. 

“I know,” Adam explained and the scared look on Francis’ face started to recede, “I already knew that. Totally forgot, but I knew that.”

Francis looked at him quizzically, eyes squinted. Adam had on hand on his back, the other on his chest, right over his heart. 

“How do you know that?”

A roll of the eyes and a smirk, “I’m the head of security. I’ve read your file.”

“Oh. Right.” 

“Now,” Adam trailed his hand down, the same way that Francis had, down towards his naval. “How do you want to proceed?”

Francis practically whined at Adam’s response, spreading his legs wider. “Probably with a bit less clothing. I’m not an animal.”

Adam’s only response was to pull Francis’ shirt up and over his head. He sighed at the sight of him, even though it made Francis shudder with those nerves again. He was lean and a bit too thin, but there was still muscle there, not quite removed from his time in solitary. There was a snake wrapped around his shoulders, black and green ink traveling down his chest. There was a crown of gold hovering over the snakes head and two dates by its tail. It was beautifully detailed, more stylized than realistic. 

“Can’t say I’m surprised by that either,” he admitted, tracing the snake with his fingers. 

Francis sighed and Adam realized that the reaction was because of the scars under his pectoral, not realizing that Adam hadn’t noticed them yet. 

“That’s Miffy.”

“Miffy?” Adam asked and then tried not to laugh, “Like your password?”

“She was my first snake,” Francis explained, “A rescue from a hoarder. She was all fucked up when I got her.” He grabbed Adam’s hand, trailing it up to his clavicle, where there was an exaggerated kink in the tattoo. “She had a broken tail and she either ate nothing or everything, she was so cagey at first. But I was broken at the time too, really bad part of my life. I know it’s cliché but I guess she saved me too.”

“When you went to jail?” Adam asked.

Francis nodded. Adam didn’t press, he had a feeling he understood why jail was so rough for Francis, on top of the obvious reasons. He took his hands away from Francis’ chest, trailed them lower, to slip down into the waistband of Francis’ sweatpants and briefs, and slide them both down. 

He couldn’t get them off though, not all the way, with Francis straddling him. Francis got the hint though, sliding off of him and rolling onto his side, pulling his pants down the rest of the way. Adam pulling off the covers and the sheets, and the pink of Francis’ face went bright red as he tried to cover himself. 

“Jensen!” he hissed. 

“If you get cold you can cuddle up to me,” Adam mused, really liking that idea. He was looking Francis over though, finding more ink on his hips and thighs, circuit boards and anatomy and, he was pretty sure, a silhouette of a chocobo. His skin was smooth and unmarred, all of the bruises mostly healed up. He was slightly hairy, but Adam could still see a bit of pink poke out between Francis’ legs. “I can’t do this. You’re too pretty.”

Francis kicked him, laughing, “Says you! You don’t have an ugly inch to you!”

Then it was Adam’s turn to freeze. He was handsome, once, before his body got all messed up, but now, he was fairly certain that Francis just didn’t know what he was talking about. He understood exactly how nervous Francis had been, right then. He went silent, pulling off his shirt, and he noticed how Francis groaned, turning back to him, seeing how Francis’ eyes were roaming, his pink tongue poking out between his lips. He looked obscene, the way that he was staring at Adam, the way his hand trailed down to touch himself. His eyes didn’t leave Adam once while he stripped down, his gaze hard and steady on the seam between Adam’s flesh and alloy in his thighs. 

“Shit,” was all he said. He licked his lips and dragged his eyes back up to Adam’s thought they did get lost a few times on the way. 

“Okay,” Adam swallowed, feeling odd, too on display, too praised. 

More kisses, hotter now, closer, more demanding. Adam pulled Francis close, could feel how cool his skin had grown, and pulled his hand away from himself, slipping his fingers in among the hair and folds of his skin, drawing out a small whine. He slid a finger on either side of Francis’ cockhead and then swiped it with his thumb, feeling teeth dig into his lip as Francis fought the urge to buck. 

A moan was punched from Adam’s own lungs as Francis wrapped a hand around his length and started to tug against him, slow and methodical, as he was reading Adam’s reactions. They experimented for a while, pressure and heat and friction, both of them growing in sound, small huffs and whines and pleads. A few directions were given here and there, the best rewarded with needy kisses. 

“I want to try something,” Francis admitted, pulling Adam’s hand away from him. He was soaking wet, his cock red and thrumming and swollen. Adam was fairly certain that he would cum in less than a minute if he hadn’t stopped him. 

“Okay,” Adam breathed and Francis let go of him and, as much as the first touch was a hit the release was more of one, the pressure inside of him, so close to cresting, falling away and smoldering. 

Francis was turning around though, lying on his side still, and he reached back for Adam’s length, directing it between his thighs. Once in place he closed his legs, trapping him in the heat there, lubricated with Francis’ own fluids. Their cocks were pressed together, hardly any space between them. 

“Go on,” Francis urged, rolling his hips and coating Adam fully in his discharge. “Fuck me.”

Adam rolled his hips. He hadn’t done this in years, not since he was a teenager but Francis was holding him so tight and he was so wet that Adam couldn’t deny how good it felt. He wrapped his arms around Francis, spooning him, while he thrust between his thighs. He trailed kisses and little bites on Francis’ neck, making him shake as he groaned, Adam’s cock frotting against his own every time the head pushed out into the open air. 

He grit his teeth and gripped one of Francis’ hips, pulling him flush against him. Francis barked and then was shaking, vibrating, whining in a way that he couldn’t recognize as pain or pleasure. He was so close though and the vibrating of Francis’ body, the way he was jerking himself frantically, the way that he was grabbing and clutching at Adam’s arm so tightly, pushed him over the edge, cumming hard on Francis’ thighs and the bed sheets. 

He stayed there for a moment, just breathing, and Francis lifted one leg to let Adam out from between them. He kissed Francis’ temple, right where the infolink had been, before heading towards the bathroom. Francis just murmured contentedly as he did. 

He came back with a damp washcloth to clean Francis up with, finding the man still exposed and almost asleep. He hummed as Adam cleaned him. 

“You’re not going anywhere, are you?” he asked, reaching out and rubbing his thumb along the black underside of Adam’s arm. 

“Nah, you’re stuck with me,” Adam promised, “as long as you want me.”

“Hmm,” and with that Francis fell asleep, only shifting when Adam took back his vigil in the bed beside him. He rolled over and curled up against Adam’s chest. 

He was going to be alright, they both were. It was going to take time, but Adam was telling the truth: he wasn’t going anywhere.


End file.
